10 Perfect Albums

There are some musical acts I absolutely adore. There are some songs that are more important to me than food. And there are some albums that I really, really like. But once in a great while, there emerges the Perfect Album.

They aren’t perfect, really. “Perfect” is a superlative that cannot apply to an art form like music. Instead, the Perfect Album is an album that stands alone. This doesn’t mean every song is a winner; the Perfect Album can have foibles. But the Perfect Album always refers to itself as one great artistic work.

There are some albums that consistently end up on Top 10 lists online:  Pet Sounds, Highway 61 Revisited, Nevermind, London Calling, Who’s Next, Never Mind the Bollocks, The Joshua Tree, etc etc. These are all albums worthy of praise. But they aren’t my Top 10 Perfect Albums. They all fail.

Today, I give you Citizen Ted’s 10 Perfect Albums. They are not in order of greatness because they are all Perfect.

10. Acetone “Cindy” 1993

I heard a cut from this album on the local college radio station and immediately ran to the store to buy the CD. That was in 1994. It’s still in hot rotation on my MP3 player.

This album lowers you through a stucco ceiling and delivers you onto a comfy sofa where guitarist Mark Lightcap carries you away on walls of sweet tube-driven Fender Twin luxury. Melancholic singer Richie Lee tells you stories of broken hearts and broken minds, lulling you into his world effortlessly. Before you get too sleepy, though, Acetone will gleefully tear away at the wallpaper with shrieking punk noise – just to make sure you’re paying attention. “Pinch” is one of those songs that really gets your hair flyin’ and your teeth gnashin’.

With a masterful sense of tone (hence the name), Acetone’s “Cindy” is, quite simply, perfect. The band followed up with a few more records. “If Only You Knew” was very nearly another Perfect Album, but “Cindy” still gets the win. In 2001, singer/bassist Richie Lee succumbed to depression. The world is a dimmer, emptier place in his absence.

Acetone – “Don’t Cry”

9. Zero 7 “The Garden” 2006

The art of great songwriting is not dead. Don’t let Billboard fool you. There are still people out there crafting soul-wrenching, beautiful music with brilliant arrangements and attention to detail. Sometimes, they even make an entire album of such songs. This is one of them.

Zero7 pulls from a wide stable of artists. A revolving cadre of singers and contributors build a single moment in music, delivered brilliantly on this record. The melodies are instantly familiar and timeless and endearing, yet they ride on an unusual conveyor belt of electronic and acoustic sounds. The compositions are mostly spare, avoiding the pitfalls of adding a zillion tracks to make it “bigger”. Zero 7 knows how to build up a crescendo without going overboard.

They went wide off the mark with the latest album “Yeah Ghost”, but all is forgiven, because “The Garden” is a Perfect Album.

Zero7 – “Futures”

8. Pink Floyd “Dark Side of the Moon” 1973

Yeah, yeah. I know what you’re thinking: every rock reviewer on Earth has this in their Top 10 and we’re all sick of this album.

I admit I rarely listen to this album and when I hear it on the radio I want someone to turn it off. Not because I hate the music – I love it. I’m just goddamn sick of it. Nonetheless, this is a Perfect Album.

You must absorb DSOTM in context. This means turning the lights down low, sparking up a bowl and playing this album in its entirety over a nice sound system at almost-too-loud volume. Do so, and you will re-discover (as I have) that this record is far more than a collection of tunes.

It’s also more than a just a space-doper concept album. It’s an exploration of sonic discovery crafted with care and delivered with precision. “The Great Gig in the Sky” is the greatest vocal performance ever recorded. Ever.

There are plenty of moody noodlers who make “atmospheric” music. But none of them have the impact of this record. None of them. This album is Perfect.

Pink Floyd – “Breathe”

 

7. Love Jones “Here’s to the Losers” 1993

I’m gonna go off piste here. In the stable of retro lounge acts of the 1990’s, one album towers above them all. Love Jones have crafted an album of such unbelievably tight musicianship, of such fun and irreverent lyrics, of such pith and verve, that one must be dead inside not to adore it.

“Here’s to the Losers” has its lulls, its weak spots. But the Perfect Album seems to pull you along the bumps with promise of good times ahead. I have played this album to death, but sometimes I just gotta go back to it, like a junkie to the darkest corners of the local Needle Park.

The retro lounge movement may be dusty now, but “Here’s to the Losers” remains steadfastly alive. Any album that doesn’t take itself seriously yet rings with the contemplative genius of truly talented musicians is an album worth treasuring. From the wastrel silliness of “Custom Van” to the nostalgic earnestness of “Ohio River” to the crazed pathos of “Paid for Loving”, this album is an end-to-end victory of great harmonies and carefree joy. It’s Perfect.

Love Jones – “Here’s to the Losers”

6. Goldfrapp “Felt Mountain” 2000

Not many folks enjoy somber, moody music but I do and this is my list, so suck it. This album is a salute to the 1920’s Berlin cabaret scene, a timeless form of sensual music updated for the digital age in this priceless, Perfect album.

Alison Goldfrapp’s breathy presence comes forth like a live singer crooning on a spotlit stage as you grasp a G&T in your sweaty palm. She comes forward, touches your arm, then shimmers back to the stage, where her voice cries out of love and betrayal like fallen angel.

The album is spartan; very often you’re held aloft only by the slightest tendrils of sound, but you are nonetheless captivated by it.

Sadly, Goldfrapp quickly left Perfect Album territory to create a string of execrable electro-dance-pop records, but this achievement will always be theirs.

Goldfrapp – “Lovely Head”

5. The Posies “Frosting on the Beater” 1993

Another album from 1993. What can I say? It was a good year. And this Perfect Album is an unusual pick for me because I’m not a big power pop fan. But a Perfect Album is a Perfect Album, so who am I to quibble?

No need to describe the music in depth. Here’s all you need to know: Beatlesque harmonies, raw jangly guitars, big kick beats, and catchy melodies. It’s not rocket science, but I know it’s damn hard to write one iconic rock song and this album is riddled with them. From “Dream All Day” to “Solar Sister” to “Flavor of the Month” to “Definite Door” to “Burn and Shine”. Any one of these songs would be a world-crushing smash hit for any band, and the Posies have them all on one record.

More importantly, the entire album reflects everything that’s infectious and pleasant about 90’s power-pop. And it’s delivered without syrupy kids’ stuff. Why this album didn’t make The Posies a household name is beyond me.

The Posies – “Dream All Day”

 

4. Big Audio Dynamite “This Is Big Audio Dynamite” 1985

I don’t like reggae. At all. And I kinda liked The Clash, but I never bought their records. So how can this album be Perfect?

Because Mick Jones is a lyrical genius, and because he knows how to fuse together popular forms and weave them into something wholly unique. Not only did he tinker about for a long while to make this record, but he was very careful to make the entire album one seamless expression. Not a concept album, not two 25-minutes opuses. Instead, he created an entirely new musical attitude: a statement in the literal, lyrical sense and in the musical, aural sense. And one is hard-pressed to find a single cut that betrays his efforts.

You may not like this music, that’s fine. But I recommend you read the lyrics and see for yourself how popular culture can be lampooned by someone with a deft hand at the quill.

Big Audio Dynamite – “Medicine Show”

3. Nick Drake “Five Leaves Left” 1969

All three of Nick Drake’s albums are amazing bits of songcraft, but his first record contains the largest quantity of gems. Despite a few thoughtlessly arranged bits by an overzealous producer (all flute flourishes must be killed on sight!), this album shines Perfect regardless.

If you play guitar, listen carefully to this album. Once you get over Drake’s masterful finger-picking, pay attention to how his voice enters and leaves. Somehow, this guy is able to jump in and out of the melody as he sees fit, all the while performing some rather intricate guitar work.

And the music itself? Melancholy, introspective acoustic diamonds all. Drake died in 1974 from an OD of antidepressants. Just like his song “Fruit Tree”, he didn’t really know any international fame until long after his death. It’s really sad, because he probably never knew he made a Perfect Album.

Nick Drake – “Three Hours”

2. Mike Oldfield “Ommadawn” 1975

Oldfield fans may curse my name, but this album is his Perfect Album. Not Tubular Bells. Not Hergest Ridge. Ommadawn.

If you don’t already know, Mike Oldfield is a composer and multi-instrumentalist of great renown. You probably know the opening of his “Tubular Bells” album – it’s the theme to The Exorcist. His first few albums were all long instrumental compositions, each side an entire piece. He wove together traditional English country music, symphonic bombast, electric synthesizer rock and wonderful instrumental solos.

In Ommadawn, he takes us on a journey through his beloved English countryside. We ride along a medieval road on horseback, past a menacing castle at night, through a pub-side minstrel show and into a bizarre yet beautiful Celtic incantation. The entire journey is musical – even the lyrics, sung by his sister Sally in a made-up language.

Even when he lets his melodies repeat a few bars too long, you are simply too lost in it to care. Fucking Perfect. The MP3 does this music no justice. Play the CD on a good sound system. Loud.

Mike Oldfield – “Ommadawn”

1. Portishead “Dummy” 1994

This is the first album from the Bristol three. In 16 years, they’ve only released three albums because making Perfect Albums is really hard work.

With vocalist Beth Gibbons hissing into the microphone, Portishead takes us to a dark, strange place – a dream. But there is no malevolence here, only a strangely intoxicating representation of the real world. You have been invited, but you don’t seem to know anyone here. Gibbons calls you to the stage and you are enraptured.

This is the only Perfect Album that unravels like a film noir screenplay. It is a whole, an experience. The music is spartan and crafted to the finest detail, and its echoes haunt as well as bemuse. A piano plays next to you, when suddenly a DJ scratches a record and whips you into an entirely different place. This is a work of genius. A Perfect Album.

Portishead – “Mysterons”

 

That’s it. Ten Perfect Albums.

Feel free to send me your Perfect Album choices. I love to hear what other people like! Here’s the rules: I bared my soul about music I like. You can pick away at my choices and even call me a dick. But in return, you are required to tell me exactly which records you utterly adore. OK? Good.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Music | 4 Comments

My Balkan Summer Vacation

View from atop Doboj fortress, Republika Srpska

When my friends travel to Europe, they typically go to the west: UK, Ireland, France, Spain or Italy. Sometimes, they might visit Germany. If they’re really adventurous, they’ll try Norway or Portugal. Me? I’m fascinated with eastern Europe, and specifically the ex-Yugoslavia.

It’s a unique place. It was a communist country, but unaffiliated with the Soviet Union. It leans West but speaks a Slavic language.  It has beautiful landscapes and bustling cities. And of course, it was recently embroiled in a hideous series of wars.

While gawping at bullet-ridden buildings and artillery-burned houses may seem interesting, it wears thin pretty quick. I didn’t go here to see how badly the place was affected by war. Instead, I went to see how well the region is rebuilding.

You want ruins of war? They got 'em. But they're boring.

I wanted to see the legendary mountains of central Bosnia. I wanted to see the noisy streets of Sarajevo. I wanted to see the walled cities and the stunning coastline of Croatian Dalmatia. I wanted to see something beautiful, not something ugly. If Germany could attract visitors in 1960, why can’t Bosnia attract visitors in 2010?

The Bosnian and Croatian landscapes are hauntingly beautiful, as are the Bosnian and Croatian women. More and more folks are finding Bosnia to be the next gem in the Balkans (after Slovenia and Croatia). It’s still split along ethnic lines, but signs of warming continue. I am convinced that today’s Bosnian youth will be the peacemakers that unite the country.

Croatian kids fooling around in Dubrovnik.

This year’s travels took me and my travel buddy Mike to central Croatia, across the border to Republika Srpska, through central Bosnia, then south back into Croatia, where we enjoyed an amazing journey up the Dalmatian coast.

We’ll look at each stop, then I’ll add a slideshow of some of my best photos at the end. Here we go!

Zagreb, Croatia

A quiet moment in Zagreb's Jelačić Square

Zagreb is the capital of Croatia and was our official ingress/egress point. It’s a cosmopolitan city, a working city. You can find touristy stuff, but for the most part Zagreb is a staid, stately city in the central European mold. Watching folks emerge from trams and wander off to their workplaces reminds me of Prague or even Vienna. While much smaller, Zagreb has similar architecture and its people are similarly disposed.

I really like Zagreb.

Osijek, Croatia

Osijek's traingular main square.

This town surprised us. We planned to use it as a convenient crash spot after a day’s drive, but rather than bore us as a middling provincial capital, Osijek impressed us as a cool, modern town. I was surprised by the huge number of young people everywhere. Fact: fresh young faces really brighten up a place. You can idle in the Centrum, walk along the riverfront with its many pubs and clubs, or gawk at the three centuries of architectural history on Ulica Europska. I wish I had more time to spend in Osijek.

Tuzla, Bosnia-Herzegovina

Muslim girls getting awesome fountain photos.

Tuzla is the second-largest city in Bosnia. When Marshall Tito was still running Yugoslavia, he turned it into an industrial city, replete with nuclear power plant. The plant is still running and while the long, ugly industrial strip leading into the city may be a turn-off, the city itself is surprisingly neat and very busy. Prices are cheap and life is good here. Signs of ethnic integration are everywhere despite the horrors of the recent war.

Sarajevo, Bosnia-Herzegovina

Sarajevo peeks out from morning clouds.

Bosnia’s capital is known to everyone as “war-torn” Sarajevo. This is unfair. In 1960, was Hamburg, Germany called “war-torn” Hamburg? No? Then shut the fuck up.

Sarajevo is a jewel of a city. Successive waves of leaders, architects and civic engineers created in Sarajevo a fantastic blend of bold Ottoman design, stately Viennese solemnity and crass modern excess. You’ll find Bosniaks, Croats and Serbs living together peacefully (for the most part) as they have for centuries in this Neopolitian mix of cultures. Sure, resentments still linger, but Sarajevans seem more interested in creating a better future than dwelling on an awful past.

Our guide showed us the city sites and took us into the mountains for a celebration of small-scale organic farming at a tiny Bosniak village. Mike and I were treated like honored guests at this place, and I will never forget the kindness and good humor of these people – people who had lost everything and now struggle to get back a piece of what they once had.

Don’t write off Sarajevo as “war-torn”. It’s one of the world’s most beautiful and inspiring cities.

Mostar, Bosnia-Herzegovina

Mostar's famous bridge, all fixed up.

I am ashamed to admit that we treated Mostar like everyone else does: as day trippers with no interest in staying long. Mostar deserves better. Its famous bridge was built in 1567 and was, at the time, the widest man-made arch on Earth. It stood for 427 years, until the Croats destroyed it with artillery fire in 1993. After the war, divers retrieved as much of the original stone as possible and the bridge was rebuilt brick-by-brick in the exact same design as the original.

The bridge is very beautiful, as is Mostar itself. Its old town has stunning stonework and a compelling skyline. Unfortunately, the old town is also crawling with day trippers, most arriving by bus from Dubrovnik. They bring lots of money for trinkets and lunches, but they also poison the environment by being…day trippers. I think Mostar is a romantic place, and lovers everywhere could do worse than spend a weekend there.

Dubrovnik, Croatia

Holy. Freaking. Crap.

Dubrovnik is among the best-preserved walled medieval cities in the world. Imagine Venice without the canals, and you’ll get an idea of how strikingly beautiful this place is. As the center of the Ragusan maritime empire, Dubrovnik carefully danced between Venetian, Ottoman and Hungarian domination.  Their independent streak continues to this day.

Mike and I scored a hotel with a huge veranda just outside the eastern gate. It was fucking fantastic! Of course, being the jewel of the eastern Adriatic means lots of tourists. But unlike Venice, the circus of humanity was more of a crowd than a crush. I felt comfortable walking the city and I got a bazillion amazing photographs.

Before you die, see Dubrovnik. Period.

Split, Croatia

It's good to be the retired emperor of Rome.

Split, the second biggest city in Croatia, is famous for two things: the palace of Roman emperor Diocletian and the soccer team Hajduk Split. Diocletian’s palace is an enormous walled complex and I was happy to score a hotel within the palace walls. It isn’t often you can walk out of your hotel and turn the corner into a scene like the one above.

We hired a tour guide for the palace area. She was wonderful and informative and patient with my photo-crazy ass. After the tour, I took a hike into the enormous park that rises high above the city. I was rewarded with a sudden rainstorm, but I kept my spirits up by drinking lots of espresso and avoiding loud Americans.

Split was another surprise, like Osijek. It was much more beautiful and interesting than I had expected. One day, when I’m rich, I’ll build a villa just north of Split and live the good life.

Zadar, Croatia

A beautiful city on a beautiful day.

Few people are hip to Zadar. Most Europeans know the place exists, but few Americans have ever heard of it. It’s not a tourist mecca like Dubrovnik and it’s not a famous capital like Sarajevo. Instead, Zadar sits quietly on the Adriatic Sea, minding its own business. And business is good, considering that the city was all but cut off during the recent war.

Zadar has plenty of Roman, Venetian and Austrian history for tourists, but the city seems more interested in its core: being a powerful maritime port city. They’ll take your tourist dollars, but they’d like it better if you opened new offices here and maybe parked a yacht or two. If you need to site your import/export business on the Adriatic, Zadar would like to have a word with you. And you should listen because this city is pretty damn cool.

Gallery

Here’s some photos from the trip. Enjoy.

Click on image to cycle through the slideshow.




Posted in Cultural, It's All About Me, Travel | 2 Comments

I Slam, You Slam, We All Slam for Islam!

Muslims walkin' the walk in Mecca.

Today is September 11th. The nation is awash in remembrances of that awful day, so I won’t add to the million-fold choir. Instead, I’d like to talk about the undercurrent of today’s mourning: Islam and America’s relationship to it.

Since Americans are woefully ignorant of Islam, let me set the stage by whipping together a quick history lesson on the subject.

Around 610AD, a guy named Muhammad was hanging out in a cave in what we now call Saudi Arabia. He was a religious fellow who was into meditation and religious thought. He was well aware of Judaic thoughts and teachings as well as that upstart Christian ideology. He liked all this stuff, and he wanted to figure it all out. There had to be a higher finality to all this stuff.

One day, he was chillin’ in his cave when the angel Gabriel appeared and told him to stop moping in that stupid cave and go forth to proclaim the glory of God. This freaked him out, as you can well imagine. But after the initial shock, he put his nose to the grindstone and began writing the early Qur’anic verses.

I like my head, so here's a representation of "Muhammad".

All that time spent cogitating in that cave really paid off. Muhammad wrote all kinds of things about history, ethics, Abrahamic law, best practices for eating and living, interesting parables, rules for family life and all the other things that make religion such a pain in the ass to follow. Most of all, he wanted everyone to know that God (Allah) was One. No trinities, no spirits in the rocks, no angry musclemen throwing lightning bolts from the clouds.

Allah, he figured, is the same True God (Yahweh) that the Jews worship, and is also the Being Incarnate of Christianity’s Holy Trinity. He is The One (not Neo), and it was pretty damn important to Muhammad that everyone knew this.

The prophet business is tough, but Muhammad was tougher. Just like Moses and Jesus before him, he built a core audience of fans then started spreading the Word far and wide. And like Moses and Jesus, this didn’t sit well with the entrenched authorities.

Sometimes you have to coax people into submitting to God.

His new religion was called Islam, which translates roughly to “submission”, a way of life that involves submission to God in all of one’s actions and duties. It’s a concept not far removed from the other religions of the day, but Muhammad was uncompromising in his emphasis on submitting oneself to God’s will. And not just on Sundays.

Eventually, Muhammad and Islam clashed with the powers that be. Rather than bore you (and me) with the details, suffice it to say that battles were won and lost throughout the Middle East until eventually the forces of Islam conquered all.

In his dotage, Muhammad had not only established a new religion as commanded by the angel Gabriel, he also unified the Arabian tribes of the Middle East into one coherent civilization. He really went out on top.

Before he shuffled off his mortal coil, Muhammad appointed four dudes to carry on his work. He called them “caliphs”. They would be the primary bureaucratic leaders of the new empire. To this day, the Sunni Muslims consider the original four caliphs and their descendants to be the true line of continuity for the faithful. The Shi’ite Muslims, however, feel that one of the four, a dude named Ali, was actually the bestest and truest caliph of them all, so they pay homage only to the hereditary line of Ali.

If this is starting to sound familiar to you, it’s because it is familiar to you.

Thirty Years War.........................War in Bosnia.......................The Troubles in Belfast

I won’t re-hash the Byzantine split from Rome, the Lutheran Reformation, the Puritan persecutions, the emergence of Zionism or the medieval Crusades or all the other sectarian craziness that has been waged in the name of religion. Let’s face it: if it hasn’t splintered into different warring factions, it isn’t really a proper religion, is it? Instead, this being 9/11, I’m going to narrow it down to what’s on everybody’s mind nowadays: Islam. Sorry to pick on you, Islam, but today you’re in the hot seat.

Back to our story: Islam flourished in the Middle East and eventually, a Turkish dude named Osman (Donny Osman, I think) put together an army of kick-ass light cavalry and founded the Ottoman Empire. These Musselman pushed all the way to Vienna, which scared the shit out of Christianized Europe. The schism between Muslim East and Christian West would continue for five hundred fucking years, until the Ottomans were dismantled (along with the Austro-Hungarian Empire) at the end of WWI.

For a brief moment, it seemed like there might be peace in our time. Islam still flourished in the Middle East and Africa, while Christianity ruled the West, albeit with a sprinkling of Jews here and there. The Crusades and the Great War were an embarrassment to enlightened Christians and Muslims alike. You do your thing, we’ll do ours, from now on.

But then…

Motherfuckin' oil, bitches!

One could argue that WWI was really the first oil war, with the West desirous of easy shipping access to the Middle East. It seems unlikely that some Serbian punk shooting a feathered archduke should plunge all of Earth into war. But it did. Why? Because the West and Russia had a common ambition: access to Ottoman territory. How to get it? Foment a war with those swarthy bastards and win it.

There’s ample evidence that Gavrilo Princip, the Serbian punk who shot Austria’s archduke Ferdinand, was tasked for the assassination by a group of Bulgarian criminals. These Bulgarian dudes had regular back-channel communication with…the court of the Russian Czar. Something may smell in Denmark, but it really reeked in Bulgaria.

Conspiracy theories aside, it seems quite clear that the dismantling of the Ottoman Empire opened up Mideast oil to the western powers. Pretty soon, Britain, France and Russia were making nicey-nice with the weakened states of the Middle East. They even started propping up otherwise unremarkable princes and creating new countries for them to rule. Iraq? Kuwait? They were created from whole cloth on a map, their borders designed to  divide oil assets, not demographic strata. Shi’ite? Sunni? What the fuck ever. Just shut up and keep the oil flowing.

Then came the American ascendancy. By the 1960’s, America’s insatiable thirst for oil outstripped its ability to produce. The solution was obvious: do like the Europeans. Leverage power in the Middle East and suck the deserts dry.

Our partner in peace.

Now, you can say a lot of things about Middle Eastern leaders. They have outdated mustaches, they wear funny hats, they bathe too often and they eat way too much goat. But you can’t call them stupid. They saw the West’s plan for them and they didn’t like it. In defiance, they formed OPEC: the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries. This cartel was formed to protect the economic interests of these comparatively weak powers against undue predation by the likes of Europe and the US.

They had the power to control oil production, which in turn affected speculative prices. Thus, they were essentially able to fix the price of oil. It’s kind of like being WalMart, except you get lots of armies and cool warplanes, too.

Oil is a business, and this also meant working closely with huge oil companies. And would you like to guess what happens when you closely align autocratic governmental power with corporate greed? Did you guess “ungodly corruption”? My, you’re a smartie!

The oil-rich states of the Middle East became corrupt bastards. While many of them used their tremendous oil wealth to improve public life for their people, they typically turned a blind eye to grinding poverty among the lowest of the low.

Most governments do the same thing, but in an Islamic state, the dismissive attitude is particularly galling to the rank-and-file Muslim. After all, they’re supposed to be submitting themselves to Allah, not to Exxon.

The lowest of the low, in kid form.

Your leader is a super-rich douchebag in league with corporate scumbags from the United States. Your imam tells you to submit to God, that all your earthly activity should be in this endeavor. Does it look like those who hold sway over your life are obeying the imam, obeying God? Not likely.

Then, you read about a new Jewish state in the Mideast being bankrolled by the United States. You may not really give a crap about Jews; you probably never met one. But when you read about the occupation of Palestinian lands, things start coming together. Super-wealthy leaders + Western corporate power + Israeli occupation of Arabs  + historical also-ran status + golden oil opportunity slipping away = desperation and anger.

For most Muslims, this calculation was just a daily digest that they swallowed, albeit bitterly. Kind of like how Americans know about rotten corporate lobbying and the evils of the military/industrial complex, but they just suck it up and move on to the next hurdle in life. You can’t get all worked up about this shit or you’ll go crazy.

...and this guy really did go crazy.

In Muslim Africa and Indonesia, these geo-political intrigues didn’t really mean very much. But in the Middle East, shit was starting to boil over. In Egypt, Syria, Lebanon, Iran, Iraq and the Arab states, small, angry groups started to get bigger and more vocal. National governments tried to squash these overly-religious troublemakers, but it’s kinda hard to persecute religious fanatics when your entire republic is founded on the institutionalization of that religion.

There are many routes to success. If you’re a little guy and you need to make your viewpoints known, you have options. You can form a group of like-minded individuals and spread the word. You can pool some resources and publish a book or three. You can leverage your meager successes to bankroll even bigger things, maybe a film about your struggle. If that seems to resonate, you’ll probably end up in the mass media. You’ll have a chance to really make that change.

Conversely, you can just start killing people.

Now, killing people shouldn’t be your first move. It’s frowned upon. But to crazy people, it seems like a good first option because it’s so darn effective at getting attention. Negative attention, for sure. But you can’t make an omlette without breaking a few eggs, eh?

What an ill-considered political statement may look like.

I’m not writing all this to excuse those evil fuck-wits who attacked the United States on 9/11 and who continue to perform outrageous acts of mass murder all around the globe. These people need to be found, isolated and destroyed, full stop.

What I am saying is that their religion, like many religions, is an excuse for their barbarity, not the source of their barbarity. Osama Bin Laden was  a very wealthy man. He had more options than most of us. He could have single-handedly begun a global dialog about grievances and problems. When you are smart and eloquent – and when your cause is just – you inevitably get heard.

If he had written a book, I’d have read it. If it made sense, I’d have defended it. If it had a road map to a better world, I’d have followed it.

But he didn’t write a book. His doctrine does not resonate with reasonable people. Even though his countrymen may have legitimate grievances, he completely fucked their plight, as well as ours.

Islamic extremists of every stripe are fuck-ups. They are incapable of reasonable exchange. That’s why they rely on terror. They offer nothing that the world wants. And it’s pretty ironic, considering the fact that the world wants change. It wants fairness and it wants justice. You’d think we’d all be clamoring to join their cause. But we don’t. We don’t because their cause is the mirror image of the cruel, vindictive, greedy evil bastards they despise. They can’t replace the evil elements in power because they are evil elements themselves.

If the US is bankrolling rotten Saudi leaders and a disliked Israeli state, let’s air that shit out. Let’s change the system from within. Let’s wear a tie and run for office. Let’s boycott. Let’s get the most people on our side. It works. From Ghandi to King to the fall of the Soviet system, a just cause with an eloquent voice can change the world.

Bombing innocent people? That’s for evil fucks. And these evil fucks will be defeated by more Ghandis, more Kings and more Russian nobodies who finally stand up and say “enough is enough from you fucking assholes”.

On this 9/11, I’m not in mourning. I’m just angry that our noblest impulses have been transformed into childish anti-Islamic crapola. We had a golden opportunity in the wake of 9/11 to unify the world and create a whole shitload of Ghandis and Kings. Instead, we went full retard and created armies of Osama Bin Ladens.

The people that died on that day aren’t calling from the grave for revenge. They are calling from the grave for a stop to the madness. They want a solution, not a war.

Muslim Americans have an interesting quirk: they are statistically likely to be law-abiding taxpayers and contributors to the nation. They tend to be educated and revere education. Like other religious folks, they can compartmentalize their religious lives into the American way of life. How many Islamic street gangs are there, selling crack and shooting up neighborhoods? How many American Muslim drunks come roaring out of bars and start fistfights in the streets? How many American Muslims roam the night, burglarizing houses and smashing windshields?

Almost none.

America: your war is not with Islam. Your war is with evil fucks. Some of those evil fucks are Muslims. Some are Christians. Some have political power. Some run corporations. There is no need to demonize a demographic; Evil knows no bounds and fears only enlightenment.


Posted in Cultural, Political Whingings | 5 Comments